


Creative Writing Final Drafts

by KateLeeShadows (ThirteenRedVampireBites), ThirteenRedVampireBites



Series: Creative Writing Course Spring 2017 [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Retellings, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Gen, Goodbyes, Kings & Queens, M/M, Mentions of Death, Multi, Poetry, Religious Content, Royalty, Sleeping Beauty Elements, life stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-10-18 13:04:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10617474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirteenRedVampireBites/pseuds/KateLeeShadows, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirteenRedVampireBites/pseuds/ThirteenRedVampireBites
Summary: The final drafts for my Creative Writing Class.Includes:Drama - We Three FatesFiction - Sleeping BeautiesNon-Fiction - GracesPoetry - Words





	1. We Three Fates

**Author's Note:**

> Since I still don't have any new chapters to post (exams are coming up and they're kicking my ass) I decided to post my portfolio for everyone to see. 
> 
> Some of these you'll have already seen but they have been changed so... 
> 
> ~Kate-Lee

We were the Fates, choosers of destinies. Once we were three, now we are one. Once known to Greece as Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos; and to Rome as Nona, Decima, and Morta, we have now become Syntyche (Sin-ti-key). It has been centuries since we were recognized as members of any religion, but all know who we are. We were the Spinner, the Measurer, and the Trimmer, but now I hold all titles. We were the past, the present, and the Future, but now I am only Time and how it passes. Before our joining we were Birth, Life, and Death, but now I am simply Life.

What happened to us, has happened before the to Hemuset, our Egyptian counterparts. Two disappeared and it was up to the last to keep their work going. She kept their visage alive, just as I have.

I was Atropos and Morta before our joining. I was Death, I was the end. I decided who died and when. I dealt the final cards of the long game… But even I had someone above me, who had total control.

The night my sisters disappeared into the darkness was harder than the day my son was killed by a Chimera. I simply woke up the next morning to them gone and the house quiet, but I knew that they were gone for good. There were no fireworks, no noises, no death rattles, no goodbyes, nothing as they disappeared. There weren’t even bodies, they were just gone.

With my son it was much easier to cope with. It was hard to watch as he was torn apart because I could not interfere but at least then I had something to bury and something to burn. At least then, I knew what happened, I knew where he’d gone, I knew he wasn’t in pain anymore. But with my sisters… They just disappeared, never to be seen again.

And so, I took on all the jobs, became Fate instead of the last of the Fates. The Moirai were no more but time continued and so did my job.

How things are done now, is much simpler than it was hundreds of years ago. Each year on December 31st, all the fate deities sit around a large table until the clock strikes midnight when a large deck of cards appears and shuffles itself out between us.

We once dealt with thousands of lives but now, we are lucky if we get a hundred lives from the deck. _All_ of the ancient deities are lucky to get a hundred while gods like the Christian’s G-d get millions. Few follow the Olde ways and those that do often don’t remember any of us. We’ve seen many deities simply fade into the darkness.

Now I deal with lives in a different way than we once did. We used to just make, measure, and cut the strings because there were so many lives we dealt with, but now because of how few I get I make something that represents the person’s life.

Jacklyn Morris is represented by a small square. She will be fifteen when the cancer takes her from her family. There is nothing that can be done, they find it too late. I cannot interfere… She’s only three.

There are times where I wish I could step in and fix everything in my path but I cannot interfere in the lives of mortals. Few gods even recognize my power. They have no fear of the lone Fate and what she could do.

We all know the pain of losing someone close to us. We all understand the sorrow of loss and death. I have watched for thousands of years as lives have come and gone, some too soon and some too late.

I’ve been through massacres, Holocausts, terrorist attacks, and wars. I’ve seen suicide cults, mass deaths, packs, revolutions, and Dictators. I’ve watched as plagues, fires, floods, storms, landslides, and sinkholes destroy and kill.

I’ve seen deaths of all kinds. Just as I’ve seen lives of all kinds.

There are times where I wish I could step in and tell these mothers not to have children, just to save them the pain of losing them. I’ve seen mothers and fathers lose themselves so much to the loss, that death and destruction follow in their footsteps like flowers to Persephone. But I cannot tell them not have children, just as they cannot tell me to forgo doing my job.

I cannot step in. I must watch the suffering of those I see as my own, being unable to do anything about how the world turns out. I watch as Death and Life revolve around each person in turn, spinning and whirling but never touching until the last moment in a person’s life, sharing one light kiss as the person’s life is passed into Death’s hands.

Phillip Coulson’s life is long enough to form the beginning of scarf, but it will end with a simple wound to the chest. I see nothing past that, I see no life beyond that single moment. Perhaps, given his career choice, something will prevent that. Perhaps he will not die for certain, perhaps more will come but I do not see beyond his current final moment.

I cannot decide the exact actions of the person I’ve been drawn from the deck. I only know how long they live and how die. I may see flashes of their lives as I work but other than a few small moments, I do not see much.

I only see the moments in life with the strongest emotions. Their births, their deaths, their marriages, their first loves, the arrival of their children, their first breakups. Lives can take on a mind of their own if you’re not careful. The lives of some can… get a bit out of hand as I work.

Take James Barnes and Steven Rogers for example.

Their lives started out normal in the 1920s. In 1945, James’ fade to white. Months later, Steven’s followed. For the next while, Steven’s stays white while James’ periodically returns to color. Then after almost 70 years, Steven’s returns to color. I don’t know why and I don’t know how.

But now, both have returned to color and their life material continues to grow. I have no idea when the fabric will be complete and until I feel that its time, it will continue to grow, one and on.

We’ve seen many cloths that should have ended earlier but continued and others that should have continued but ended early. There are two cases of this that easily come to mind.

Paulette McCloud was born in the late 1950s and she was supposed to die in a car accident in her late forties but her decision to walk instead of driving, kept her alive and allowed her to live a long and happy life with seven children and twelve grandchildren.

Sergeant Rouge Tony on the other hand is a different story. She was on tour in Afghanistan and the decision to take her sick corporal’s place on patrol came to be a fatal one. Her Hum-V hit an IED, killing her and the Private in the vehicle with her. The lieutenant and the other sergeant in the vehicle survived. She was buried with full honors in her own country while her family and friends watched, proud but sad as they received their flag.

A single choice can change everything. Going with your instincts, means that there will come a point in your life where you know something is going to happen subconsciously but you don’t know what, so you have to make a choice. Do what your body tells you, which could save your life, or ignore it and take your chances with Tyche, letting her choose your luck.

Some cloths, like those of Sergeant Tony, Jacklyn Morris, and Paulette McCloud are made before the person is born. Chosen with the strongest future in mind, the strings are woven together. I do not see all futures, just that single strongest one. Time is not a line, however; it is a jumble of strings and worlds that could overlap or split and change anything anywhere at any moment for any reason.

I watch as time comes and goes. That is all I can ever do.

 

I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve stopped my work to tell you this. My time has come… The problem is that I am the last. The last of all the Fate deities. I don’t know who will be chosen or when, so I needed to get my story, _our_ story out there for even one person to remember once I’m gone and there is no one else.

I am sure that someone new will be chosen to take up my title. Will it be one of you? That’s up to you, whether you say yes or not. Remember, permission is always needed for a God to do anything.

Good-bye.


	2. Sleeping Beauties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final Draft of _Sleeping Beauties_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm home! And here's the next part.

_As children, we had always heard stories of the Forgotten Times. Most of those stories focused on the Hidden Castle, and whichever supposed monarch that had been ensnarled by a **Laevisomnus -** sleeping spell - and hidden away within its walls. _

_Only the Elders ever knew how to get there, and when questioned, just said that only when the Sleeping Monarch was ready to rise would they chose who was to help them rise._

_I never expected that Chosen One to be me..._

For many reasons, was I the unexpected and - by the village - unwanted Chosen One. For one, the fact that from the moment I came to be a part of the village, I had been the Outcast; the Outcast based on things outside of my range of control.

I never knew my parents. At least, not that I can remember. Grandmama always said that they were the happiest of couples and for them I was a welcomed blessing. She would always grab my constantly moving hands and set them to work at the bread dough as she explained what came to be.

I was conceived under a Blue Moon - a time of great Pure Magix - but born on a Blood Moon - a time of Dark but not Black Magix - which marked me as both blessed and cursed. Blessed by the Blue Moon and Cursed by the Blood Moon.

Those Magix in me came out visibly and in every moment of my life.

Visibly by way of the chimera red and blond patterning of my hair, the heterochromic blue and silver of my eyes, and the vitiligo that removes color from large portions of my skin - mostly around my joints and in ink-on-paper splotches on my face and torso.

The more literal portion of my curse/blessing, stems mostly from the people around me. My parents died only six months after I was born, struck down by a strange fire that ransacked the village - destroying half the buildings and killing six people - but somehow leaving me unharmed in the middle of my parents' burning cottage.

Grandmama always called me her little King. She would draw her fingers through my hair, pulling it back into thin light braids with adornments of wood carved with the runes of our ancestors that clicked together every time I moved. Adornments that had once been my father's and his father's and his father's and so on before him since the very first of our family that had magic was a young man and apprenticed under an Norse-African shaman.

Now, that dull tapping sound is only a reminder that she's gone to join my parents.

 

_I've gone slightly off course... I was supposed to be tell you the story of how I came to stand where I am, not so far into my past - though it has a bit of relevance. I never meant to go that far back... It is not as important as it would seem... Back to the story._

 

For many reasons, was I the unexpected and - by the village - unwanted Chosen One, but as the Elders told the villagers who protested the loudest, "The Chosen One is the Chosen one. And there is nothing you can do about it. There is no changing it."

To this day, I'm still not exactly sure how I came to be the Chosen One in the first place. I fell into a sort of blank state after my name was called at the announcement and because of that I don't remember much of what came after that.

All I do remember about the process of the naming is the Elders calling the village together just after my twentieth birthday and announcing that it was time, that the Chosen One had shown themselves to them all. And then after a long moment of silence, with plenty of shuffling about nervously for everyone involved, they announced that _I_ was the Chosen One.

I didn't hear the arguing that broke out as the only thing going through my mind was the fact that I was the Chosen One. _Me_. That _I_ was the only one who could wake up the Sleeping Monarch now that they'd spoken to the Elders. Why would I be the Chosen One? What could I bring to the Sleeping Monarch other than pain and misery? I was both cursed and a curse... What good could my curse bring? Especially to a Royal?

The next thing I remember is the preparation. The Elders dragged me away from the Meeting Hall and into their enclave. The three female Elders dragged me away to the Heated Springs they used for a bath and for cleansings before weddings; they stripped me down and loosened my hair before pushing me in and scrubbing me clean with soft flowery scented soaps. After they were sure that I was clean - almost religiously clean - they pulled me out and dried me off before settling down around me and slowly pulling my hair back into different braids and twists that they decorated with the newly cleaned adornments of my forefathers and a few new ones with images of animals and new rune sets. They dressed me up in new soft cotton pants, a long cotton shirt, and a pair of sturdy new boots before draping a long leather jacket over my shoulders. I was then shoved out the door and pushed into a carriage where the other four Elders were waiting.

It was a long ride from the village to the Hidden Castle; it took from high noon until almost dusk before the carriage passed through the front gates of the castle and stopped before the main doors. The Elders exited first, each stopping just before the stairs that led to the door. I stepped out and stared up at the looming building before me.

If I hadn't already known magic was involved, I wouldn't have believed that the castle wasn't made by giants or ogres or even a troll. The stones of the building were like boulders - strong and large - and connected like a jigsaw puzzle in amazing patterns. The moss and flowering vines that sprang from the faces and cracks between the stones showed both the age and the beauty of this wondrous and ginormous place, hidden by thick woods and shimmering wards.

 

_The wards took months to fix after I arrived. The sleeping spell that had left the castle in perfect condition had changed the wards so that only those who knew where the castle was could enter. However, Kings cannot rule without people, leaving every layer the need to be changed so that the villagers living in nearby areas could enter and visit._

The Elders shuffling around drew my attention away from studying the dark stones. They stared at me for a long time before I stepped closer to the castle.

"We lied to all you village kids," Elder Graham started, staring up at the stained glass window over the door that depicted a nest of serpents curled around a crown. "There's more to this than even we know, but what else is here is for you alone to find out when you go."

"All you have to do," Elder Grace told me, brushing lightly at the shoulders of my shirt. "Is be yourself, and do what feels right to you."

I could only nod stiffly before taking a deep breath and turning to face the door that cut me off from the beginning of my destiny. With no other choice, I pushed the doors open just enough so that I could slip through. I took another calming breath before pushing open the anteroom doors and stepping into the entrance hall.

 

It was magnificent.

Everything looked the way I assumed it did when the spell went up. Plush red carpets ran down the length of every corridor exiting the hall and up the stairs that curled around the edges of the large room. Dragons and snakes were carved into the stone of the walls as well as the railings of the stairs. Paintings and tapestries covered the walls and there were statues of different animals - mostly large felines with a few deer - in motion everywhere. Large curtained windows spaced evenly along the halls and through rooms let in modicums of light through cracks in dark red velvet curtains. The most breathtaking part of the entrance however, was the large crystal chandelier that hung down from the center of the room between the stairs. There had to have been more than a thousand pieces all hung from tiny metal hooks that came down from the helix frame that made up the structure of the chandelier.

I nearly tripped over the carpet when a translucent woman in along dress appeared from the left hall. Her hair was pinned to the top of her head by several thin pins with strange wave shaped flowers on the ends, and if she'd been alive I would have suspected her hair to be a dark brown or even black in color.

She stared at me for a long time, as I stared back at her before she finally spoke, " _Come, Chosen One. I will lead you to your destiny."_ She turned away and began to float away down the hall.

Another moment to calm myself and shove away the feelings of fear and excitement down, before I followed her down the hallway, away from the entrance hall and towards where the Sleeping lie. Many doors were passed, some dark in color and some bleached by the sun, until finally she stopped at a pair of dark - _what I presume to be walnut? I still have no idea what woods are here, there are so many around... -_ doors and turned to face me again.

" _Your destiny awaits you here. May the Goddesses be with you."_ She bowed her head lightly before disappearing abruptly, just as she'd appeared.

I stared at those doors for a long time, just studying the barely visible linear pattern of the wood grain. After a long time of following one darker line across the door, I finally worked up the courage to open the doors and step into the room.

 

It was dark but as soon as I passed a set of curtains that were partially drawn back from covering the doorway, green fire torches sprang to life on the walls and the few candles and lamps flared to life which lit the room in a dark green and amber glow that reflected off the red carpet and the well polished stones.

The figures on the odd platform bed took my breath away - _and they still do, just so you know_ \- as soon as I laid eyes on them. Each one was ethereal in their beauty, and the differences between the three of them was something that only added to that beauty.

Each of the trio lying on that bed were beautiful in every way imaginable, and I could barely believe the blessing I'd been handed in being the one chosen to wake them. The first - and smallest of the three - had hair like spun glass, such a pale blond and so delicate looking - with skin flawlessly cream and rose-tinted and covered in delicate freckles. The second - and largest - had hair as dark as night that looked like smooth black onyx, and skin smooth and dark complected. The final would seem plain to anyone else in comparison to their bedmates but I could see the beauty in them too. The final's hair was a soft brown color that fell in random curls around their head and their skin was bronzed from time in the sun.

Until I got closer to the bed, I had no idea that they were all male, but none the less, I loved all of them immediately. Slowly, I stepped closer to the bed, and a grin spread over my face at the sight of them holding hands and turned towards each other. Gently, I moved them about until I could fit easily on the bed between two of them, so that I could have access to all three.

 

_I hadn't thought about marriage or love for a long time, not since I was a child anyway. A time when all you heard - unless you lived in Grandmama's home - were stories of Princes and Princesses and daring knights that fought off dragons. I guess that like the rest of the children, I always expected that I would marry someone of the other gender and pop out two or three kids and live a happy life._

_Looking back on that time now, I can see how much of a fool I'd been. No woman would ever be able to handle the curse of my blood. And I would never subject a child to having my blood without having someone else's more powerful blood to counteract it. No woman would want to handle my curse, and I don't expect them to._

_It is for the best that I have the three of them. They each counteract the curse in ways that no one else would ever be able to._

After a quick moment of watching them, I leaned forward and gently rested my hands over their clasped hands, and with a deep shuddering breath from each, their eyes began to flutter in wakefulness. The first to open his eyes was the Raven, and deep indigo eyes met mine sleepily before they brightened and he shifted around as much as he could without disturbing the others or my position on the bed. The second was the Blond, his green eyes were too tired to meet anyone's for a long moment before he seemed to wake up more and his eyes met mine. I smiled at him shyly, shifting around anxiously as we turned our attention to the final Sleeper. Honey eyes opened slowly and he shifted onto his side, curling up to the Raven with a soft groan. The Raven chuckled huskily before he began to slowly sit up with the Brunet curled against his chest.

"Come now," The Raven croaked, voice hoarse with sleep. "Hunter, what kind of hosts are we not to introduce ourselves or even speak to our Chosen?"

With those words, the Brunet's eyes snapped open and he stared at me. I couldn't help fidgeting under his gaze, turning my head away so I wouldn't have to look at him and see his reaction. I knew that they would figure out what was wrong wit me, and I knew that their reaction had very little chance of being a good one.

Soft hands grabbed my face and dragged it around to look at them. The Brunet, Hunter, smiled as he rubbed my cheeks lightly with his thumbs, brushing over one of the colorless splotches on my face. "Our beautiful Chimera," He cooed, tracing over another colorless patch that went around my left blue eye and down the side of my face.

"Now, introductions are in order," The Raven said, pulling the Blonde closer to his side. "Kings Graedyn - " he motioned to himself carefully before turning to the blonde, "Azale, and then Hunter."

"...Szymon," I murmured, staring at the crests embroidered on their sleeves.

"Szymon, Our beautiful Chimera."

 

The crowned figure grinned as he finally finished his tale. Braided blond and red hair clicked as he moved to settle back against the back of his chair in the library more comfortably as the children of his story group stared up at him in awe.

"And that is how I became Consort to the Triad Kings," He told them, smoothing out his tunic. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed movement at the door and looked up to find all three of his husbands crowded there. He grinned at them before rising from his chair to move to them.

They wrapped their arms around his waist. They'd head this story many, many times and knew that he'd left out plenty of the darker times they'd struggled through. Szymon's depression and fear of losing them, Hunter's forgetfulness and obsessiveness, Azale's self-worth issues, and Graedyn's struggle to protect all of them from the demons of their minds.

They fought, and they tried. They persevered through the issues, and they made it. They won against the naysayers and the demons of their minds.

Everything was well, and Szymon was happy that he was the Chosen One.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> [Personal Tumblr](http://thirteenredvampirebites.tumblr.com) / [Writing Tumblr](http://crimsonswolfden.tumblr.com/) / [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Nightworldlove) / [My Writing Blog](https://kate-lee-shadows.blogspot.ca/) / Email: thirteenredangels@hotmail.com  
> 


	3. Graces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My Non-fiction piece.

People often ask what I believe in. 

There is no simple answer to that question. 

Do I believe in a G-d? There are a lot of Gods I believe in. 

Do I believe in an afterlife? Of course, everything has to go somewhere, conservation of mass and all that. 

Do I believe in the supernatural? I have to be honest, there are diseases and genetic anomalies that could account for those, but are they actually real? Probably not, doesn’t make them any less interesting though. 

G-d is a hard subject for me. I’ve lost and gained faith many times in my life, and before anyone says that I’m too young for that to have happened, let me give you a little background. 

My sister is three years younger than me – well, two and a half but we always say three – and though we may be sound-alikes, we are nothing alike. She’s an air cadet, I’m a free spirit. She loves heights, I despise them. I’m a history and languages nerd, she hates them. We both like science but she’s more chemistry than I am. Math is another difference; I have a congenial relationship with it, but she and math are mortal enemies. I’m a Dramatist and she is a musician. Writing is the one thing, that easily comes to mind as something we have in common – though I’ll be honest, I’m better at it. 

The biggest difference, other than our ages or any of those other things is that she’s a ticking time bomb. Physically we are more different than the sun and the moon. She’s tall, thin, and paler than snow most days while I’m short, curvy, and tan easier than toast. She’s got short light hair, and dark colored eyes; I have long colored hair, and light eyes. I’m genetically healthy – as far as I know, but she’s a recessive nightmare. 

She was born in Brandon, Manitoba on August 10th, 2001. Almost immediately, she went in for the first of many surgeries. One of the valves of her heart wouldn’t open, so they used what is basically a balloon to inflate the valve until it could open on its own. Then they took her to Winnipeg by chopper. They weren’t sure she would live. 

September 11th, 2001; my mother and sister were to be flown to Edmonton’s Stollery Children’s Hospital, then they got the news. All flights were grounded because 19 people with anger at the world and their gods, who were part of a terrorist organization, hijacked planes and drove them into the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and a failed attempt at the White House. 

I lost my faith when my sister was born because how could a god do that to their creations? Make them so weak and frail and basically dead, if they were ever meant to live in the first place. I gained my faith when she lived. I lost it again when 3000+ people were killed by the anger of others. 

Since then, faith is like smoke to me. I lose it, I gain it, but I never keep it. Because of that, I no longer believe in one ideal. 

I’m a follower of the Old Pantheons. I’m a Pagan with Angelic tree roots. Death is the highest form, but Life continues through. I’m a collection of Ideas and G-ds. From Greece, Hades, Poseidon, and the Gods of the Underworld with Hestia, the goddess of Hearths and Homes. Loki is my Nordic light. Mostly, I will be honest, I look to the Egyptians for guidance. I step into the Creator’s light with every breath. Samael and Gabriel are the Graces that flow through me. The triple goddess is my queen. I refuse to look to an all-knowing entity that never seems to do what is right for those under its care. 

I don’t mean to offend. I just… I have no reason to follow the G-d whose words have been skewed to discriminate so much. The Olde G-ds seem to be more inclusive to me. 

As a fluid, asexual who generally doesn’t want children or to settle into a romantic relationship, I find conflict with most of the Bible’s teachings. While that usually wouldn’t be a turn away from G-d, a lot of the things wrong with the world – homophobia, xenophobia, etc. – that are given “reason” because of the Bible are. 

Paganism, and following the Old Pantheons, is freeing for me. I can believe in anything and everything that I want to without someone finding a fault. I can be free from constraints as a Pagan. Fire, Air, Water, Earth, and Spirit are the elements that guide me in life. 

My sister is a bit of an asshole, but I love her anyways, and I always hope that when her time does come, it is after a long and happy life.


	4. Poetry - Words

Words

Words written

Words written out

Words written out can

Words written out can take

Words written out can take you

Words written out can take you to

Words written out can take you to new

Words written out can take you to new worlds

Words written out can take you to new worlds to

Words written out can take you to new worlds to explore

Words written out can take you to new worlds to explore and

Words written out can take you to new worlds to explore and across

Words written out can take you to new worlds to explore and across oceans

Words written out can take you to new worlds to explore and across oceans to

Words written out can take you to new worlds to explore and across oceans to send

Words written out can take you to new worlds to explore and across oceans to send your

Words written out can take you to new worlds to explore and across oceans to send your love.

Words written out can take you to new worlds to explore and across oceans to send your

Words written out can take you to new worlds to explore and across oceans to send

Words written out can take you to new worlds to explore and across oceans to

Words written out can take you to new worlds to explore and across oceans

Words written out can take you to new worlds to explore and across

Words written out can take you to new worlds to explore and

Words written out can take you to new worlds to explore

Words written out can take you to new worlds to

Words written out can take you to new worlds

Words written out can take you to new

Words written out can take you to

Words written out can take you

Words written out can take

Words written out can

Words written out

Words written

Words written

Words written

Words written

Words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #  [Personal Tumblr](http://thirteenredvampirebites.tumblr.com) / [Writing Tumblr](http://crimsonswolfden.tumblr.com/) / [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Nightworldlove) / [My Writing Blog](https://kate-lee-shadows.blogspot.ca/) / Email: thirteenredangels@hotmail.com  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> #  [Personal Tumblr](http://thirteenredvampirebites.tumblr.com) / [Writing Tumblr](http://crimsonswolfden.tumblr.com/) / [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Nightworldlove) / [My Writing Blog](https://kate-lee-shadows.blogspot.ca/) / Email: thirteenredangels@hotmail.com  
> 


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